Harry Potter and the Time Traveller
by ZaraMcC
Summary: Everyone has heard of Harry Potter. He is the most famous wizard in wizarding world. Everyone has also heard of Tom Marvolo Riddle; or as he's more commonly known, Lord Voldemort. But Lyla was very much unknown by the wizarding world. She wasn't even known by her brother, the Boy Who Lived, and now she is undertaking the most dangerous mission of all time. To change time.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_  
 _A Final Farewell_

 _Godric's Hollow - October 30th, 1981_

Her eyes shone with unshed tears, a look of determination and pain on her face. She closed her eyes briefly to try and calm herself, swallowed the lump in her throat and handed over the little bundle she clutched tightly to her chest. Her young husband stood by her side, his jaw set and wearing a similar expression to that of his wife's.

The young witch swallowed the lump in her throat, as she reluctantly placed the slumbering pile in the arms of their wizened old friend. She slumped into her husband, and she let the tears fall as soon as the bundle was gone from her arms, burying her head in her partner's shoulder, knowing that no length of time could repair the sorrow and hole that had been freshly torn from her chest. This was one of the hardest things they would ever have to do.

The wind whipped through the quiet English village, giving them the cover they needed. The young man clutched the old wizard's hand, a plea so clear in his eyes and his expression that it was hard to mistake.

"Please, Professor. Please. No one can know. Not until this is over. Not until he is gone. _Please._ Protect our child, in the ways you know we cannot. It is too risky even having _him_ here with us. But he is too old now, he'd notice. Please, please old friend." he pleaded, his arm wrapped around his inconsolable wife. The old wizard nodded, sadness encompassing them all, as they realised they may be the last time they saw each other.

The wife cleared her throat, wiped her eyes, straightened up and extracted her wand. With a deep breath, she tapped the mens' clasped hands, pausing until fiery thread that weaved its way around them. Whispered words were spoken, and two other fiery threads joined the first, sealing the vow - making it Unbreakable.

The young man thanked the old Professor, hugging him, trying to maintain his composure, but even a stranger could tell it was beginning to crack.

"No one must know Professor. No one." The young woman said, her voice breaking once again. The Professor nodded, before re-positioning the bundle in his arms. He cast his bright blue eyes to the sky, then turned on the spot and vanished into thin air, leaving the young couple alone in the street, with tears streaming down their faces.

James and Lily Potter knew what this meant. They knew this would possibly be the last time they saw Albus Dumbledore, and the life he now held in their arms. Wrought with grief and fresh mourning - and blood-curdling fear, they turned and walked back into their home, hearing the cries of their young son, sensing the new loss and sacrifice his parents had just made.


	2. Chapter One: The Goodbye Before Hello

_Chapter One_  
 _The Goodbye Before Hello_

Professor Dumbledore emerged from his Pensieve, shaking at the recollections of the memory, his hands curled around either side of the perch on which the magical device sat. That night had haunted him. It would forever. But no one could know, would know, or did know. It was his and the young couple's secret.

The bundle he held in his arms only fifteen years previous, had grown to be the quiet, strong, intelligent young girl who stood on the opposite side of Pensieve, having requested to see her parents one last time in his memories before embarking on a mission that could change the entire future.

She had tears in her emerald green eyes, but she was strong. She refused to let people see her emotions, a trait she had learned over the years of hiding, training and preparation for her task.

Once she had been old enough to understand, Dumbledore had explained her past to her. She accepted it immediately, and demanded training. Straight away, he had begun training her, even before the legal age of magical-use. She was a bright girl, highly intelligent for a girl of her young age.

Her reddish-brown, auburn coloured hair flowed down her back, her emerald-green eyes the exact eyes of her mother. She was quite tall for her age, inheriting her height from her father. She was quick thinking, agile, determined, and was fast becoming the makings of one of the greatest Aurors he would ever meet.

When he had first been given the child to protect, the old Professor was unsure of her future. Unsure of what he should let her do, what she could be capable of. The task she was about to embark on was completely of her creation. She had absently suggested it to the professor when she was only seven. She was too young to realise the significance her idea could have. But as she grew older, she had come to recognise it herself. She urged the Professor to help her, to let her see it through.

After hours of pondering, of debating, he agreed, with a sense of reluctance still tainting his outlook on the outrageous, yet brilliant plan. For years he had trained her, advancing her abilities to levels beyond even what would be taught in the final year of the school he was Headmaster of, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If you handed her a NEWT level examination paper right this second, he had every confidence that she would get full marks, or beyond.

"Are you ready, Lyla?" the old wizard asked, gazing up at her over his half-moon spectacles.

She looked up at him, and nodded. "I was born ready, Professor." She said quietly, her voice so similar to her mother's.

"Very well." He replied, still astounded at the magic he was about to perform, at the task he was giving this fragile fifteen year old. It amused the old Headmaster slightly that he could be amazed at magic he would implement himself, having carried out some mind-boggling feats, even to wizarding standard, in his past.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, the old Headmaster extracted his wand and swirled it in the air, murmuring the incantations and enchantments. A small shimmering wisp began to form in the centre of the room, growing in size as he continued to chant. Using complicated hand gestures, Dumbledore continued conjuring up the spell.

Lyla stayed by his side, mouthing the enchantments and imitating his hand movements exactly, making sure one last time that she knew them by heart. They would have no contact in a matter of moments, for who knows how long. Admittedly, the thought scared her slightly.

Professor Dumbledore had acted as her father for the last fifteen years, after her parents had given her to him, swearing to protect her. The Dark wizard who had been at large, Lord Voldemort, had murdered her parents the following night. Or Tom Riddle, as she would soon call him.

After another few moments of spell casting, the shimmering wisp had grown to the size of a door. It was flickering around the edges, casting odd shadows across the Headmaster's office.

"Remember everything I taught you, Lyla. Everything I told you about him. I will not know who you are in the past, maintain your cover and identity, keep to yourself, but focus on him. He is your target, your mission. But do not isolate yourself - it will draw attention. Make friends, but do not, under any circumstances divulge the mission you are on, or your real identity. Do you understand?"

She nodded, her jaw set, with a look of determination in her eyes. "I do, Professor."

"You will arrive near the Hogsmeade platform as we planned, you must stay calm and blend in. You must not draw attention to yourself. I will not be able to contact you, as I do not know you in this time. You know the incantations, you will come back at the school holidays just as we discussed, to tell me anything you have found out."

The young girl nodded, before turning to hug the Professor.

"I will miss you Professor. You have been a support to me my entire life, and I thank you for everything you have done for me. You have been the father figure to me, when my own could not. I will miss you." She said quietly, giving him a smile that made her father's image flash before his eyes. He hugged her back, feeling the exact way she did. She had grown to be a daughter to him, just as he had grown to be a father figure to her.

"As I will you, Lyla. You were like a daughter to me also. It was a privilege getting to watch you grow, getting to know you. You will make an outstanding witch Lyla."

She thanked the old wizard, then grinned, clutching the handle of her trunk in one hand, the handle of her owl, Arrow's birdcage in the other. She took a deep breath, before walking calmly towards the Portal.

Just as she was about to enter it, she looked over her shoulder, her eyes shining once again.

"I love you Professor, you will always be a second father to me." She said quietly, a smile playing at her lips, before turning once more, stepping inside the Portal and vanishing in a flash of light, leaving the old Headmaster alone in his office and quite lost for words.


	3. Chapter Two: The Sorting

_**Chapter Two**_  
 _Sorting_

 _September 1st, 1940_

Lyla felt a surge in her stomach as she stepped into the Portal, her nimble barn owl, Arrow, hooted beside her, obviously feeling the discomfort also. But almost as soon as it had begun, the pressure had vanished. She felt the rush of wind on her face and she gasped for a breath, opening her eyes to see the familiar village of Hogsmeade, with Hogwarts castle nestled in the hills in the distance. She glanced over her shoulder, and just as they had planned, the scarlet Hogwarts Express was pulling to its stop at Hogsmeade station, bringing students to begin their new school year.

Quietly muttering a spell, Lyla made her luggage and owl disappear to join the rest of the students' baggage, which would be brought to the castle for her. She was out of sight nicely, hiding in a dark, shadowy crevice next to the platform's main building.

The young girl watched patiently as the Prefects stepped out of the train, holding the door open for the students, and quietly slipped in among them, unnoticed. She was wearing the Hogwarts uniform, so mixed in perfectly.

Lyla fortunately was not put in one of the small boats alongside the first years, despite her being just as new as those students. She was in fact allowed join her fellow fifth years in the carriages pulled by the invisible Thestrals. She studied her fellow classmates quietly, not engaging in their mindless conversation about the oncoming feast.

One of the Prefects led her to the carriages, where she was joined by three boys and another girl but it was obvious immediately to her, that they already knew each other. Two of the boys were identical twins, with light brown hair that was almost blond, that fell in front of their eyes. One of them wore square spectacles and very thick lenses; the other did not have glasses, but perhaps needed them as his eyes crossed quite harshly. Both boys had a spatter of freckles across their cheeks and nose. The other boy was pale with a hooked nose that made Lyla think of a crow, with long brown hair that was very greasy; distantly she was reminded of Sirius Black. The other girl in the boat was also pale with jet-black hair and an air that made it seem as if she thought herself superior. When Lyla thought about it, she realised they all carried the same air.

Leaning her chin on her hand, Lyla thought about their demeanours. "Pure bloods", she thought, "they are all in Slytherin with him I bet." It made her wonder whether or not she was sitting in a boat accompanied by soon-to-be Death Eaters.

"Oi, gingy!" Lyla heard, before someone roughly poked her.

Lyla maintained her composure and turned to look at the quartet of students she was with. The boys cackled with laughter, where as the girl cracked a smile but shot Lyla a sympathetic look.

"How come we've never seen you before? What house are you?" the bespectacled twin asked her.

"I'm new this year. So I'll be getting sorted when we arrive." Lyla replied quietly, realising this would be the beginning of this new life, new name, new time.

The four students stared at her, eyes wide and nervous, "How can you be new? You're like sixteen," the Sirius Black clone asked.

"Fifteen actually. I just moved here from America." Lyla's birthday was in a few short weeks. October twenty third - just eight days before her parents were killed. She had only spent seven days with them in person on this Earh, before she was taken into hiding.

The girl's eyes bugged, her mouth falling open. "Y-you-you went to the American wizarding school?"

"I did. Is that so hard to believe?" Lyla asked, confused. The thought had never really occurred to Lyla that this might be quite the topic of gossip once she reached Hogwarts. The other students remained silent, staring at her dumbfounded.

Eager to dispel the awkward air that hung between them, Lyla replied, "As for what house I am, wherever the Sorting Hat places me is where I belong."

The boys tutted and rolled their eyes, muttering "What's with this one?" "A Griffer no doubt." They continued shooting her looks, whereas the girl stared at Lyla, with her head tilted to the side.

The girl extended her hand towards Lyla. "I'm Druella Rosier." She said, with a wicked grin.

Lyla smiled a smile small back at her and shook her hand. "Lyla." Lyla knew exactly who this woman was - the soon to be mother of Bellatrix and Narcissa Black.

Druella's eyes widened. "Pretty name." she allowed, moving to sit beside her. Lyla glanced towards the dirt road and was relieved to find they were nearly at the castle.

"Thanks. Yours is really pretty too. I've never heard it before." Lyla knew she had to try and blend in, had to be like any other student. Instead of a time travelling fully trained witch who was from a few decades into the future.

Druella smiled a fake smile at her, but kept her gaze on Lyla, studying her up and down.

After a moment, Druella abruptly announced, "This is Cygnus Black. Those are the Nott twins, Caius and Edgar." She pointed to each of the boys as she named them. Lyla wondered idly if Cygnus and Druella had already begun dating, knowing they would soon be married.

Ten minutes later, the carriage came to a halt and they were being led to the Great Hall. Lyla saw Professor Binns hovering by the door, ushering the students in, occasionally drifting through a student, causing a sudden cry. Lyla smiled to herself - it was common knowledge that if a wizard or witch passed through a ghost, they would feel the sensation of ice cold water being poured over there.

Binns monotone-ly ordered all students to take their seats, before turning and drifting into the Great Hall. The mindless chatter erupted as soon as Professor Binns had disappeared through the large wooden doors that Lyla knew led to Hogwarts' Great Hall, where the Sorting would begin and the students would have their meals.

Lyla stood back, unsure of what to do. She knew she herself needed to be sorted, but wondered idly if that meant she were to join the first years.

Lyla hovered by the entrance door, wondering whether or not to ask one of the teachers.

"Are you okay, Miss?" Lyla jumped and turned to see Professor Slughorn standing behind her - a much younger and slimmer version of the Slughorn she had been told about by Professor Dumbledore.

"Um, I'm new this year. I'm a transfer from Ilvermorny." Lyla said quietly, suddenly nervous.

"Ah! Miss Moonshadow! We've heard quite a bit about you. Come with me." Slughorn led her into the Hall, leading her towards the staff table.

"Wait here a moment." Slughorn said quietly, before going to speak with Professor Dippet, the Headmaster. Lyla nodded, glancing around at the other students. She noticed a few were already staring at her, whispering as to why she was at the staff table. _'Perhaps some of them think I'm already in trouble.'_ Lyla wondered idly with a smile.

Slughorn returned a moment later, "Now, Miss Moonshadow. You too will join the Sorting like our first years, then you will go and join your fifth year classmates. You can wait here until the Sorting begins."

Lyla thanked the Professor, and watched as he bustled off to his seat. Lyla wondered if this is how round Professor Slughorn was now, how round could he be in her real time.

After a few minutes, the Great Hall doors opened and in streamed the nervous looking first years, being led by a much younger Dumbledore. Lyla froze as she watched her father for all intents and purposes walk towards them. She smiled, relieved to see a familiar face - even if she were unfamiliar to him.

Professor Dumbledore brought the first years to a halt, while Professor Dippet stood and welcomed everyone to the new school year, welcoming back old students, and welcoming new students. He gave some warnings and made some announcements, before leaving the time to the Sorting Hat, who sang a song of welcome, new starts and of course, warnings. Even if this time, there were dark wizards.

After the Sorting Hat's song, Professor Dippet spoke once again, to announce the sorting was about to begin.

"Now, when I call your name, you must come forth. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses." He began unraveling the scroll, looking over his glasses at it, reading aloud the names. It was in alphabetical order of course, so everybody waited patiently for his or her turn.

Lyla waited, observing the first years. She smiled to herself, when she thought of how her name came to be on the list. Professor Dumbledore and his astounding magic, she thought, even a simple levitation spell seems more profound and extraordinary when Professor Dumbledore performs them. She was still smiling to herself, when she caught the current Professor Dumbledore's eye. He smiled at her through his lavish beard, adding a wink after. She laughed quietly to herself, shaking her head in amusement.

Her laughter was cut short when she heard her name being called.

"Lyla Moonshadow." Professor Dumebledore called. Lyla loved her fake name; it was so...unique. She quietly made her way through the crowd and sat on the old wooden stool.  
Quietly humming to herself, Lyla felt the Sorting Hat be placed on her head.

She heard a few murmurs erupt throughout the hall, as to why she was being sorted - _'She's too old!', 'Who is she?', 'She's the American transfer!'_ Apparently Druella, Cygnus and the Nott twins spread the news of her arrival. Lyla rolled her eyes, and focused on her task at hand.

"Aah... I see. Intelligence, I see. Profound abilities. I know your story Lyla. Moonshadow, ey? Unique but also very mysterious. Just like your background." The Sorting Hat whispered in her ear. She knew this had been coming, and had mentally told the hat what Dumbledore had said. "I see. Yes, I see... Very well." The Hat continued.

"You have the heart of your parents, young child. Stay strong. Continue in your mission, complete your task, conquer your fears." The Hat murmured close by her ear.

"Thank you," she whispered in response.

"I declare... GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat shouted. Lyla sat in awe for a second. Her parents' house. _Harry's_ house! "Thank you so much." She mentally praised the Hat. She heard a distant laughter and "You're welcome!" as the Hat was taken from her head.

The Gryffindor table had erupted in cheers and applause, welcoming their newest house member. Lyla calmly took her seat, catching the eye of Druella who sat at her new house's table. She looked disappointed, but smiled at her, sadness clear in her eyes. Lyla smiled back, curious as to her sadness. Perhaps she wanted her to join her in Slytherin? Druella's last name was Black, so she had been one of the first to be Sorted.

Lyla sat beside an ice-blonde Prefect, who shook her hand and congratulated her on being sorted into Gryffindor. Lyla thanked her politely, but her eyes and concentration wandered back to Professor Dumbledore. It saddened her that the man who had raised her, been her father when she could not be with her own, didn't even know who she was. She knew he wouldn't have, but she suddenly felt very alone.

She scolded herself, telling herself to _"Buck up, you're on a mission"_. She shook her head slightly, and tried to focus on the rest of the Sorting.

 _"This isn't just a week long thing. This is permanent. The time is different here, to back home. But this is your new home. Stop wishing for what hasn't happened yet, and focus. We're on a mission. We chose this, now pull your bootstraps up, and shape up. This is serious!"_ Lyla thought to herself, nodding, preparing herself for what was to come.

It was going to be hard, she knew that. But it had to be done. She had suggested this; she had wanted this. There was no backing out now. She was here. It was actually happening. Focus Lyla, focus! She thought to herself.

She forced herself to listen to the rest of the Sorting, eat dinner, and converse with those who started conversations with her.

 _"You're just a regular student, like anyone else in this school, start acting like it!"_ Lyla said to herself that night when she'd tucked herself up in bed in her new dormitory.

Her last thoughts, before sleep overcame her, was of her parents, their pain-stricken faces of having to give her to Dumbledore, Professor Dumbledore himself, and of the little English boy with a lightning scar that everybody knew. Everybody, but her...


	4. Chapter Three: Task at Hand

_**Chapter Three**_  
 _Task At Hand_

Lyla started classes the following day. She began learning the names of her fellow Gryffindors, as well as the other students. Over the following few days, she realised it was easier to blend in then she had anticipated, minus the fact it was clear she was a top student in all of her subjects. Everyday, she mentally thanked Professor Dumbledore for training her early and for helping her surpass the levels any normal student would be at.

Word of her intelligence easily spread, and some students, Slytherins mainly, began teasing her and became jealous. Other students, mainly her fellow fifth year Gryffindors, begged her for help with their homework and essays they had to write. Even some students in higher years were asking for her help. It amused her, yet unnerved her. She was supposed to be blending in, not making the whole school think she was the new wizarding Einstein. Not that half of them had heard of him, of course.

Lyla's teachers were baffled, yet gleeful, of their new, clever student. Some challenging her with harder homework, or spells, others annoyed that she seemed to have the curriculum already covered. She grew bored in some of her classes, but did not complain.

Fortunately, she had begun making friends, which helped her blend in even more, and she wondered how depraved of this she had been while in the deep oceans of isolation and secrecy. Lyla caught herself wondering how _he_ was doing so far in the future. He didn't even know she existed, but everyday she felt pangs of loss and sorrow for the famous boy who didn't even know her name.

Lyla had seen Tom Riddle several times during her first week, mainly at meal times. She had vowed to try and follow him, and learn of his movements and what areas he liked to frequent outside of class time. Lyla was eager to truly begin her task at hand, just knew some ground work needed to be laid first.

Lyla was walking down a corridor, clutching her books to her chest, absently dodging Peeves' attempts to throw oozing, green sweets that made your tongue throb, and were awfully sticky and would become lodged in her hair like chewing gum, on her way to the library for Study Hour. She was busily thinking hard of ways to befriend Tom when she heard her name being called by a male voice from behind her.

"Oi! Moonshadow!" someone shouted from behind. Lyla froze and turned around to find a huddle of Slytherins crowded around an arched window in the corridor. She quickly found the caller who had broken her out of her reverie; he was a skinny, pale-faced Slytherin with white blond hair, gelled perfectly into a side parting. Abraxas Malfoy - the father of Lucius Malfoy.

There was about eight Slytherins surrounding him. But her eyes found the one boy who's attention she really wanted to catch. His stance was lazy, giving the air that he didn't care or want to be amidst these people he found below him, but she saw that his gaze was fixed on her, keen interest in his glinting, dark eyes.

Lyla raised an eyebrow, and looked back at Abraxas. "Yes, Malfoy?" she asked, keeping her voice calm and steady.

"Come here. We would like to speak with you." He snarled, glaring at her. Obviously he wasn't too impressed with having to be in her presence; which didn't exactly make sense considering they shared classes together.

Lyla quietly closed the few metres between them, maintaining a normal enough distance from the group of rowdy Slytherins. She noticed Druella hiding in the background, behind one of the larger, more burly, idiotic looking, Slytherin boys. Or perhaps it was a very hairy girl, with a mole...

"You called?" Lyla asked, keeping her tone neutral, when in fact she was burning with curiosity. Why did they want with her? Not that she was complaining.

"I hear you are quite the little witch, Moonshadow." A quiet, commanding voice said from the centre of the group. She locked eyes with the raven-coloured haired, pale boy, with the penetrating gaze. His eyes were glinting, and she could already feel the power radiating from him.

"Tom Riddle." Lyla replied, their focus fixed on one another.

Tom's mouth quirked up at one side, and he raised his eyebrows once. "You know who I am. I'm impressed." He said, almost a tone of sarcastic teasing in his voice.

"I'm pretty sure the whole school knows of you, Tom." Lyla replied. _"Where I'm from, the whole world does."_ She finished mentally.

He laughed, but it was a strange sound, with almost no humour, only malice. She could almost hear his thoughts. "Soon the whole world will." Lyla internally suspected.

"Well, Miss Moonshadow, it seems you are quite the witch. I hear you can perform a Patronus?" he asked, his eyes glinting with the same dark interest as before. She wondered why that was.

Lyla raised her eyebrows. "You seem to know a lot about me, Tom." She murmured quietly, ignoring the stares from passing students. She could hear them whisper, "What's Lyla doing with Riddle?", "Why's Riddle speaking to the brain-box?", "What's Lyla doing with the likes of HIM?"

Lyla continued to watch Riddle's reaction, and noticed his eyes hardening at their whispers. She wondered if he would spit at them if he could.

"I have my sources. So, is it true?" Riddle replied, his tone sharper and harsher, anger clearly colouring it.

Lyla wondered for a moment, whether or not to answer rhim truthfully. But if it meant keeping his interest, then she would tell the truth. "Yes, yes it is."

Tom smirked, leaning towards her, so his face was only a few inches from hers. "Prove it." He whispered.

She narrowed her eyes, before nodding. She slipped her books into her bag, extracting her wand from her robe. Turning towards the now, nearly empty corridor as everyone had headed to lunch, she pointed her wand towards the empty space, thinking of a happy memory, and mentally saying the spell, to really astound him. A silver doe erupted from her wand and cantered down the corridor, before turning around and rushing towards her. It melted into wisps of light as it passed Lyla, leaving no trace it had ever even existed.

Her doe had caused an outburst among Riddle's little posse. Some had exclaimed, others gasped, while she heard Riddle almost laugh.

"Silent spells as well. Well, well, well, aren't you just the little over-achiever." Malfoy snarled, glaring at her.

"Silence, Abraxas." Riddle ordered, venom dripping from his tone. His surrounding Slytherins all fell silent.

"Impressive, Moonshadow. Very impressive." Riddle commented, watching her with those interested eyes once again. "It's rare we get a transfer student at Hogwarts. You moved back to the UK from America I hear. Where was it you went to school there?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Does that matter?" Lyla asked, wondering how he had come to acquire so much detail regarding her cover story.

Riddle smirked, his mouth quirking to one side. "I guess not. Although, I would love to meet your teachers. Such advanced magic for that of a second year."

"Yes, well. I'm a fast learner." Lyla replied. Worry was beginning to trickle into her mind - he was digging for information, and she didn't like it. Tom's eyes looked her over, from head to toe, taking in everything about her.

"Leave!" Riddle suddenly ordered his group, his voice loud, it was clear his little group knew not to answer back to him. After a moment of scrambling, the Slytherins departed, all heading off towards the Great Hall, shooting glances back at Riddle and Lyla.

"Nice posse." Lyla commented, rolling her eyes at the sheep-like shadows Tom had acquired.

"Mm." Tom said, staring after them. "They'll do." Lyla pondered his reaction, and knew she was right when she assumed he thought himself better than the other Slytherins.

"So why did you really call me over here?" Lyla asked, glad there was no one around to hear their conversation.

"Was it that obvious?" Tom asked, amused, gesturing with his arm down the hallway for her to walk with him.

"To me, yes. To your... _friends_ , no." Lyla replied, glancing up at the already tall, third year.

"You're different Lyla. I like different." Tom murmured quietly. "I just wish you were in Slytherin." He said, sighing.

Lyla frowned. "What's me not being in Slytherin got to do with anything?"

He smirked, "Those who expect great things in life are in Slytherin."

Lyla stopped, staring at him. It took him a moment to realise she was behind him. He cocked his head to the side, and she saw his eyes burning even from the five or six feet that were between them.

"What is it, Lyla?" he asked, closing the distance between them.

"You. You think you're better than everyone else just because you're in Slytherin. Just because I'm a Gryffindor does not mean I am any less of a witch, than you are a wizard, Tom." The young witch replied, shaking her head. "I thought maybe you were different too, Tom. But no, I guess not." Lyla said, brushing past him, making her way down the hall.

"Lyla! Wait!" Tom shouted, running after her, catching her arm. He turned her towards him, and she looked up at him. She could see the anger and shock in his eyes.

"No one's ever spoken to me like that before." He said quietly, his full almost sounded awe-filled.

"Well perhaps they should." Lyla replied, shaking her arm free of his grasp.

"I'm serious Lyla. That's one of the reasons I find you of interest; mild interest. You're...different." The word curling out of his mouth, leaving a wicked grin on his face.

"Well, you'd be amazed if you knew even one fraction of the real me, Tom." She mused, thinking of her entire history. Her past (which was in the future.) Her parents... With a pang of revulsion, it truly hit her that she was talking to her parents' murderer.

"That's what I'd like to know..." Tom whispered, his eyes glinting with that burning interest once more.

"Ah, there it is. The infamous Tom Riddle charm." Lyla said, trying to ignore the taste of bile she now tasted, as well as the turning lurch of her stomach. "Well Mr. Riddle, you're going to have to try a lot harder to learn even a fraction of a fraction about me. Now, if you'll excuse me." Lyla turned on her heel, and briskly walked down the hall, clapping a hand over her mouth, and squeezing her eyes shut to rid how she felt. Was he trying to flirt with her?! She'd known he was a bit of a charmer, everyone did, but experiencing it first hand... She had felt almost flattered.

Disgusted with herself, Lyla fled to the common room, taking mental notes about what she had already learned about Tom Riddle in such a short interaction.

But she had also learned one thing about herself - she could handle herself around Tom Riddle. She was capable of her mission. She could complete her task. She just needed to remember who he really was, and who she really was.


	5. Chapter Four: Coming Home

_**Chapter Four**_ _  
Coming Home_

Lyla spent the next several nights studying in her dorm room, avoiding contact with anyone she could. She forced herself to go to meals, but ate quickly and left as soon as her plate was clear, sometimes even skipping dessert if it meant she could get away from the dark-eyed gaze who so frequently found her from the Slytherin table.

Today was Saturday however, and she knew hiding herself away during one of the Quidditch House Cup games would draw some attention. Ironically the safety and anonymity of being lost amongst the hundreds of other students, soothed her nerves. He wouldn't be able to find her lost in the crowds screaming at the Quidditch pitch, surely... But just to be sure, she donned her glasses, twisted her curls into a braid down her back, hidden beneath her coat and a knitted hat, not to mention the oversized scarf she'd brought from her own time.

Smiling to herself, hidden behind her 'disguise', Lyla made her way down towards the Quidditch pitch. What she didn't notice however, was the tall, thin boy, with intriguingly dark eyes watching her. Lyla was just re-visualising a memory of herself and Professor Dumbledore a few Christmases ago, when she felt a whisper by her ear.

"Hello Lyla." The voice said, causing her to freeze in place, and extract her wand at inhuman speed. The owner of the voice laughed, and Lyla turned to see Tom Riddle, standing there, shaking with laughter. Lyla glared at him, rolled her eyes, and continued trudging towards the pitch.

"Lyla! Wait!" She heard him call, but she ignored him, annoyed that she'd let herself be frightened like that. Stowing away her wand once again, she heard the sound of hurried, squelching footprints. As she expected, Tom appeared by her side a few moments later.

"You are very strong-willed Lyla." He commented, looking at her from the corner of her eye.

"And I bet you just hate that, don't you Tom? So used to girls falling at your feet, that you can't stand one little Gryffindor being just a tad different. Well, get used to it Riddle." Lyla replied, keeping her eyes on her route. Fresh snow had fallen since the other students had all headed down to the pitch, but it didn't quite cover the slippery, slimy footprint-filled slush that had been created underneath.

She heard Tom laugh quietly, seeing him shake his head in her peripheral vision. "You intrigue me, Lyla. You are someone I cannot read. Most students at this school are quite...dense."

"Finally figured out your posse's personality then?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

Tom smirked, "You could say that. I meant in general. The students here are all so...clueless. Completely ignorant of the magic that they could perform..." he paused, for dramatic effect, eliciting another eye roll, "... the _power_ we could have."

Lyla froze. "What power?" she asked, warning signs going off in her mind.

"Power over the Muggles of course." Tom said, his eyes alight with surprise.

"Why would you-" Lyla started.

"Ah Tom, m'boy!" Lyla heard a loud voice boom. Tom and Lyla both turned to see the walrus-like potions professor, Professor Slughorn, waddle his way towards them. Tom's face quickly transformed into a harsh smile, his eyes glinting in superiority as he watched the professor make his way towards them. Lyla watched Tom's reaction, and could tell immediately that Tom was Slughorn's favourite, one of his "Slug Club" members.

"Professor!" Tom said, the fake smile still on his face. Tom shook the Professor's hand, clearly enjoying the attention.

"Ah, Tom! A little late to be heading to the pitch, don't you think? Your own house, Tom!"

"I was waiting for Lyla here, Professor. She was assisting Professor Dumbledore in decorating the Christmas trees." He replied, gesturing towards Lyla.

Lyla's eyebrows shot upwards; he'd been waiting for her? Watching her? Lyla had deliberately taken her time on her way to the Quidditch match, stopping to assist Professor Dumbledore decorate the Christmas trees in the Great Hall.

"Lyla? Ah, Miss Moonshadow! Quite the clever-clogs here Tom! Decorating the Christmas trees, is it? Five points for Gryffindor! Why didn't you offer your services Tom? Leaving all the hard work to the Gryffindor ladies of the school. Have to uphold the Slytherin name Tom!" Professor Slughorn said, clapping Lyla on the back, causing her to stumble forwards slightly. She felt strong arms catch her, in case she fell, and looked up to see Tom abnormally close, his arms round her, his eyes glinting with the familiar dark interest they always had around her.

Lyla muttered a "Thank you", before quickly extracting herself from Riddle's grip. She inwardly shuddered, knowing he had touched her. She mentally thanked Professor Slughorn for having appeared, and giving her the distraction she needed. But she was also burning with curiosity as to what Tom had meant. Power of the Muggles? Was the young Tom Riddle already planning to be the Dark wizard he would be in years to come? She had known he'd been young when he began investigating the dark magic he would use in only a handful of years, but to speak about it so openly? The revelation shocked her

"Lyla." She heard a quiet voice say once again, by her side.

"I thought you were busy with Professor Slughorn?" Lyla asked, approaching the Quidditch stands. "Slughorn can wait, all he wanted to do was tell me of the next meeting." He replied, looking slightly annoyed.

"Ah, the famous Slug Club." Lyla commented, gazing up at the tall stands, adorned in the Hogwarts' Houses' colours. She smiled to herself when she saw the familiar red and gold of her own house, scarlet and gold, the fearless lion, the mighty Gryffindor.

She saw Tom roll his eyes to himself, when she said 'Slug Club' and she had to refrain from laughing. "Is there anything you particularly wanted from me, Tom? The match is about to start." Lyla said, as they approached the stairs towards the seats.

"To speak to you. You've been avoiding me since that day in the corridor." He said, his voice almost void of emotion. But she could see in his eyes, that it had irritated him.

"Have I?" she asked, feigning innocence. "Well, you are in a different house, so it would be difficult to speak to you anyway." Lyla said, glad of her reasoning but curious as to why her avoiding him mattered to him so much.

"Why does it matter so much Tom? Why do you care so much if I "avoid" you or not?" she challenged, hearing the cheers from the crowds begin.

"As I told you, you are not easily read Moonshadow. I can read people easily, but you are...different."

Lyla rolled her eyes, "You've told me that already Tom. Find me if you have something new to say." Lyla said coolly, before disappearing into the crowds of the Quidditch stands, leaving the orphan Slytherin boy, staring after her, his curiosity for her, only intensifying.

 _"Who was she?"_ he thought angrily to himself. _"How did she know exactly what to say, to only draw me in more?"_ Riddle thought, before grinding his teeth together, and disappearing himself into the green-clad crowds to find his friends.

Lyla did not hear from Tom again before the end of school. The last two weeks before the Christmas holidays were host to Christmas tests, rolls of parchment filled with essays, and lots of last minute cram session studying. Lyla's fellow Gryffindors were stressed to capacity, hurryingly trying to finish assignments, revising everything they'd learned since the beginning of the term.

Lyla flew through her tests with ease, barely breaking a sweat in some of the more challenging subjects. The other fifth years were too absorbed to notice Lyla's ease, which contented her, as it would not draw attention to her. She did help some of her friends in studying, and their assignments, including Hagrid, who Lyla had to comfort on more than one occasion as he was stressed to his wand's end because of the looming OWL exams.

One of the only things getting Lyla through was knowing that soon she would step back through the silvery portal door and be back in her own time, with the Professor she knew so well, who raised her like his daughter.

Lyla was sitting in the courtyard by herself, a Charms textbook open on her lap, but not being paid any attention to. The young witch was staring off into space, thinking of everything that had happened at her first term at Hogwarts, thinking of everything that had changed, and would change as of what would come of her time here.

The image of _him_ was painted in her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, his face was what she saw. Sadness washed through her when she imagined him laughing, smiling, so similar to that of her father. The young boy's eyes, so similar to her own...

"Lyla?" a quiet voice said, breaking her out of her thoughts. She turned to look up and find a a familiar face staring down at her, a friendly smile on his face. "Rubeus?" she asked, staring up at the half-giant.

He grinned at her, his face surrounded by a wiry mass of brown curls. "Ah, so ya do know me name! Are you alrigh'? I saw ya cryin' and said I'd come ter check on ya." He said, cocking his head to the side.

"Crying?" she asked, she reached up and patted her cheek and realised it was wet. "Oh. I didn't even notice."

"Oh." He said, looking awkward. "Are ya alrigh' anyway? Ya look sad."

She smiled, and slipped her book into her bag, standing up beside him. "I'm alright, thank you Rubeus. I was just lost in thought. I miss my family is all. "

He nodded. "Ah sure, we all do. You'll see 'em soon enough!" he grumbled. "Holidays start tomorra, and ya can go home ter see yer family."

Lyla knew enough about the half-giant beside her, to know he was staying in the castle, being a fellow orphan, she felt a sympathetic surge of emotion towards him.

She learned much about Rubeus' background, his hobbies and his interests. Lyla soon realised, she actually liked the young, half giant who she shared a House with. He made her laugh, and was so different to some of the other students she knew here. It saddened her to know she would be leaving him here alone during the holidays, but told herself she would see him again in a few days, once their Christmas break had finished.

After dinner, Rubeus and Lyla headed for Gryffindor Tower, where Lyla finished packing and began preparing herself for the complex spells and enchantments she would perform tomorrow.

Lyla quietly exited the Hogwarts express, gazing around at Platform nine and three quarters. She saw the other students run to embrace their family and friends and she frowned to herself, wishing she could have that too. She saw Druella half way down the platform embrace her parents, Abraxas and his family just several feet away.

Quietly slipping in amongst the crowd, Lyla made her way to the lavatories on the platform, dragging her trunk behind her. She had asked Hagrid to watch over Arrow whilst she was away, with the hope that it would cheer him up and give him some company while he stayed at the castle. She quickly locked herself in a cubicle, and extracted her wand, she slipped her book bag off her shoulder, and crammed her trunk inside - quietly thanking the wizarding world for undetectable extension charms. Once the last glimpse of the wooden trunk was gone from sight, Lyla gripped her wand, turned on the spot and evaporated into thin air.

Apparating always felt as if you were being forced through a tube, while a hook somewhere behind your navel, dragged you to your destination. Luckily the sensation only lasted a few moments. Lyla opened her eyes and gazed round at the forest, Professor Dumbledore had told her about. She quickly put up a few spells, to throw off any Muggles who might happen across her path.

After a few minutes of putting up her wards, Lyla began the complicated process of creating her portal. She smiled when she saw the shimmering silvery wisp appear in the air in front of her. Just as Dumbledore's had, it began to grow, twisting, and contorting, stretching itself, until it finally resembled that of a door.

Lyla quickly hid her wand in her sleeve, and stepped through the portal door, immediately feeling it begin to close once she stepped through. The sensation of time travelling, similar to that of Apparating, overcame Lyla once again, and she soon found herself in Professor Dumbledore's office, the wizened old Professor sitting behind his desk, his hands clasped together in front of him, as he gazed over his half-moon spectacles at her. She noticed Fawkes quietly sitting on his perch behind the Headmaster's head, and he quietly hooted when he saw her, shifting restlessly on his perch.

The Professor smiled warmly at her, when she looked at him.

"Professor!" she exclaimed, so glad to be back in her own time. "Lyla." He said, happiness clear in his tone. He rose to his feet, and walked around his table, his arms open.

She quickly ran to the professor and hugged him. Safety and comfort encompassing her. She was strong, but Dumbledore was stronger. Lyla always felt so safe and secure when she was around the old, wise Headmaster. "Then again, who wouldn't?" she thought to herself. This was the only living person that Voldemort himself feared.

Lyla glanced out the window, and saw it was also snowing here too. "So, I've been gone the same length of time as I've spent there?" she asked, looking up at Dumbledore. He nodded, and both began quickly quizzing each other with questions, before Lyla began explaining her time at Hogwarts in the past with the old Headmaster, so they could finally begin figuring out how to stop Lord Voldemort.


	6. Chapter Five: The Potions Master

_**Chapter Five**_ _  
The Potions Master_

Lyla's Christmas holiday was spent planning, theorising, reviewing memories, reading into facial expressions and phrases used, with Dumbledore. It was something she had been expecting, but the ache for her brother was still there. Never once had she seen him in person, never once had he seen her. It was agonising. The one person she could share a connection with, could share memories, thoughts and feelings with; the one person she was related to... and who didn't even know she existed. Having Dumbledore never even bring him up infuriated and devastated Lyla at the same time. But he knew. The Professor always knew.

They were currently riffling through memories Lyla had extracted over the course of the year of her meetings with Tom Riddle. She sat on a chair by the Professor's desk, staring up at the Sorting Hat, remembering herself being sorted. She had never expected to be put into her parent's house. Not once. It still brought a smile to her face knowing she was a Gryffindor, just like her parents. Just like him...

She was still envisioning his face when the Professor interrupted her thoughts. "Lyla?" he asked, with a knowing look in his clear blue eyes.

"Are you alright? You look rather sad." he asked, a frown playing at his lips. Even through his beard, she could tell his usual warm smile was not present.

"I'm fine. Just thinking. Of..." Lyla trailed off when she noticed a dark, silhouetted figure standing in the doorway of the Professor's office.

Lyla swiftly withdrew her wand and pointed it at the figure. "Professor." she said sharply, as the dark figure came through the door.

The figure stopped dead when they noticed Lyla. Dumbledore straightened up and eyed the figure.

"Severus. I was not expecting to see you." the Professor said, his voice strange. Contorted with an emotion Lyla couldn't place. Fear? Regret? Annoyance?

Lyla watched as Snape lifted down his hood, revealing raven-black curtains of straight, greasy hair. His black eyes wide with shock, disbelief, and betrayal. "Lily..." Lyla heard him whisper.

Snape whipped around to glare at the Professor. "What did you do?" Snape shouted at the Professor, his eyes darting back to Lyla every few seconds, looking her up and down with a look of shock and revulsion on his face.

"Severus. Please." Dumbledore said, eyeing Snape with wary eyes, full of sadness. "This is Lyla. Her daughter."

Snape gaped at Dumbledore, stumbling backwards, staring at Lyla.

"NO!" Snape shouted, his voice sounded strangled. "She never had... She didn't. It was only Harry!"

"No, Severus... Lyla was born six weeks before Lily died. Lily and James gave Lyla to me, to protect, the night before they were murdered. I made the Unbreakable Vow to ensure her protection. No one knew of her existence Severus, not even Sirius or Remus. They were lead to believe she lost the baby. It was too risky for anyone to know of her existence."

Severus stared at Dumbledore as he spoke, his face growing paler and paler, eventually becoming a horrible grey colour that made him look like he were about to vomit.

After a few hours of Penseive memories being shown, lengthy explanations and strange looks from Snape that confused Lyla, he stared straight into her eyes, his full of an emotion she could not decipher. It was longing mixed with revulsion, awe mixed with disgust, love mixed with utter utter loathing. Lyla had an itching feeling there was more to Professor Snape than there was on the surface. But what was it?

Professor Snape sat on a chair in Dumbledore's office, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped behind his neck, knotting his hair in his fingers. He had been sitting there like that for over thirty minutes. It made Lyla nervous; more than once she asked both Professors if she should leave. Dumbledore would just smile, whereas Snape would just snap his head round to look at her, his eyes roving her face, searching for something.

 _"But what?"_ Lyla wondered.

"Your Patronus." he said, his head snapping around to look at her.

Lyla looked at Professor Snape in surprise. "I'm sorry?"

"Your Patronus. Show me your Patronus." Snape said, his voice empty, void of all emotion. Lyla looked at him for a long moment, trying to figure out why he would want to see her patronus, but decided against asking him. She extracted her wand, and turned towards an empty part of the office, before mentally saying the spell, leaving a happy memory fill her. As expected, her silver fawn erupted from her wand, and cantered around the office, before coming to stand by her.

Snape's eyes widened as he looked back and forth between the young girl, so like her dead mother it unnerved him, and the silver patronus, so similar to his own.

Lyla turned to her fawn, smiling at it. It bowed its head towards her, before melting away, leaving no trace of its existence behind. Lyla knew her fawn represented her mother, as her father was an Animagus who could transform into a stag. Her father's Patronus had been a stag, her mother's a doe, her's a fawn. She wondered idly if Harry's too was a stag, or some form of deer.

 _Harry..._

Lyla's thoughts cascaded along the few memories she had of her brother, all of which had been Dumbledore's memories, shared with her. Her smile faded, and she turned and walked toward the window overlooking the vast school grounds,

"Why did you want to see my Patronus, Professor Snape?" She asked, keeping her back to them. Sadness trickled through her veins, her shoulders sagging, her energy evaporating. Her brother walked these grounds, her only family in the world, and he didn't know she was even alive.

Lyla waited for a response, but was met with silence. "You went to school with my parents. I know you hated my father. I know you hate my brother. But what about my mother?"

Lyla still didn't turn. She continued to stare out at the grounds, looking at the snow capped towers of the castle, the grounds blanketed in white. She could see the black, icy waters of the Lake from where she stood. So many memories flooded through her as she watched the school grounds - so many that were not her own.

"She was my friend."

Lyla turned. Snape was standing a few feet behind her, white as a sheet and tears in his eyes. "I found her. Before anyone else arrived."

His voice was strangled, despairing, his expression pained and contorted with an unbearable pain. Lyla was sixteen, but not an idiot.

"You loved her." She said quietly.

Snape stared at her and closed his eyes. He slumped onto a chair, holding his head in his hands. Lyla saw the walls of the Potions Master crumble, the true man revealing themselves. The buried truth, finally breaking the surface and breathing for air, the lies and deceit shattering around it.

Snape looked at the wizened old wizard, and nodded once, before covering his tear stained face in his hands once more.

"Lyla, there's something you should know." Profession Dumbledore said quietly.

But Lyla had a feeling she already knew.

She sat on the Hogwarts Express in an empty carriage, staring at the passing countryside, but seeing none of it. Her mind's eye fixed on the young English boy, with messy brown hair, glasses, green eyes, and a lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead.

"Lyla!"

The vicious snarl broke through Lyla's thoughts; her eyes quickly darted to the carriage door, where a familiar posse clad in green stood scowling - lead by a platinum blond ancestor of a family she had learned to hate.

"Abraxas."

Malfoy stood surrounded by the usual Slytherin Death Eater suspects, Druella poised at his elbow.

"Not surprised she's sat there by herself. Given she's a freak!" Crabbe cackled from behind, erupting vicious laughter from the others.

Abraxas stayed silent however, gazing at the lone Gryffindor.

"Can I help you with something?" Lyla asked, bored. Not even back at Hogwarts yet and Tom's minions were already grating on her nerves.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the kiss-up. Still doing your silent spells, gingy?" Abraxas asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her.

"Of course, Abraxas. Would you like me to show you a hex as a demonstration?" Lyla retorted, twirling her wand in her hand. His eyes widened slightly, fear sparking in them. Lyla returned the smirk.

"And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop calling me gingy, blondy." Lyla said, with an amused smile.

Druella scowled and Abraxas called his hands into fists. "I'd watch your mouth Gryffindor. You are underestimating him." Druella said, her dark eyes piercing into Lyla's.

Lyla shook her head in amusement. "And you are underestimating me, _Slytherin_. Your friend Tom seems to like me. I've seen you around him Druella, practically worshiping the ground he walks on. It's quite sad really." Lyla knew she was pushing her luck, speaking to Druella and Abraxas like that, especially in a carriage full of Riddle's posse, but she was sick of taking their teasing with a pinch of salt, acting like she was a weak. If they only knew...

Druella growled, whipping out her wand, pointing it at Lyla. "One more word out of you Moonshadow, and you'll regret ever coming to Hogwarts."

"Come on, Druella. We'll find another carriage. One that doesn't smell so much." Abraxas said, turning and walking down the corrirdor, along with his other Slytherins. They all glared at Lyla as they departed the train carriage, slamming the door on their way, causing the carriage to rattle. Lyla rolled her eyes, sighing, as she watched them leave.

Lyla's thoughts drifted back to the day she met Professor Snape. He insisted on being around her everyday for the few days she was back in her own time with Dumbledore.

Snape began teaching her Occlumency, to ward off any intruders into her mind whilst she was on task.

One day, during her lessons, she turned to the Potions Master and finally asked him one the hundreds of burning questions she had - but this was burned brighter than all the rest.

"You loved my mother. But you turned to Voldemort's side. How did that happen? How did you go from her friend, to her enemy? You had a falling out, somehow?" Lyla guessed, tentativeness in her voice.

The Potions Professor stared at her, a look of hesitation on his face. His eyes narrowed, before darting back down to the essay in front of him. "Yes." he answered finally, his voice empty, but full of pain.

"I'm sorry." Lyla said, unsure of what to say next. She stared at the Professor, noting the tension in his shoulders, the shaking of his hands as he held the parchment, the depth of emotion in his eyes, the subtle glisten of unshed tears in his eyes.

Snape's hands shook harder, his sallow face growing paler. He looked down at the parchment, swallowing audibly.

"Your Patronus. Show it to me." Lyla said, her voice shaking at the realisation of why he'd asked her that day.

She heard the Professor whimper almost, before placing the parchment on the desk, and extracting his wand with trembling hands. He met Lyla's eyes, before swirling his wand in mid-air, leaving a graceful cantering doe run the circumference of the room above them, before melting away leaving no trace behind. Lyla stared at it, watching its familiar movements, the familiar curve of its silver body. Once again, nausea washed over her.

"Lyla, I-" Professor Snape started.

She shook her head in response, clutching her stomach. "How could you let him do that to her? To my father? My family?" She asked, having no idea why she was asking the question. Something inside her was drawn to the answer, wanted to know, needed to know, but almost repulsed her at the same time.

He stared at her, his face ashen. The silence between them hung heavy, and the palpable tension licked at her skin, like a disease.

"I tried..." he whispered.

She shook her head, closed her eyes, and turned and ran from the room.

That had been the last time she'd seen Professor Snape before she left. He hadn't returned. Lyla felt guilty. She knew it was because of her he didn't return, but she regretted leaving the Professor like that; blaming him.

Lyla knew he did not kill her mother. But knowing that a man who loved her in the way he said he did, could support the monster who killed her, horrified her...

"Lyla. Lyla!" she heard an exasperated voice say.

Lyla snapped out of her reverie and realised some of her fellow Gryffindors were standing at her carriage door. Augusta was snapping their fingers in front of her face, a look of frustration on her face.

"Come on! We're here!" Augusta said, impatiently. Lyla slowly rose to her feet, and glanced at the scenery through the carriage window, and saw the outline of the great Hogwarts castle, nestled in the Scottish mountains. Smiling to herself, feeling the familiar sense of safety and homeliness that only this castle could give her, the thoughts of the heartbroken Potions Professor momentarily forgotten, and the boy she was on a mission to know, quickly taking up residence in her thoughts.


End file.
